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Beards as a fashion, comes and goes. Abe Lincoln had a beard. These days, thousands of young men are growing beards. No complaint here. That’s me some years back, posing on the back of a motorcycle with my husband. I think beards look handsome. But I can’t help but wonder if today, the popularity of beards has anything to do with our involvement in Afghanistan and the Middle East where multitudes of men sport beards? Today’s young, bearded men look an awful lot like the Middle-Easterners that our military forces have been rubbing shoulders with.

When I was a teenager, during the Vietnam War, army surplus stores were all the rage. Surplus army jackets and pants were popular. It was a way of making a statement. Why the anti-war crowd liked wearing clothes commissioned for the U.S. Army, I’m not sure. Those were confusing times. These are confusing times.

When the British first explored Asia, they returned with riches that the upper classes took into their homes for display. Sharing cultures and ideas with others is reflected in our architecture (Mohammedan arches and mosaics); our clothing (Indian print fabric, Mexican ponchos); our home decor (Danish furniture, Persian rugs); and our taste in art (French paintings, Bollywood movies). Curiosity in other religions brought us Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, etc.

History shows us that people liked (and needed) new things. Spices for food, quinine for medicine, silk for garments. Whatever it is, if it’s new and nice, we like it. And when we really like it, it becomes a favorite in our homes for generations. Perhaps forever.

Twenty-five years ago, a fad was a long, long braid down a man’s back with very short hair or a shaved head. Remember that? Today it’s beards. Let’s hope that tomorrow it will be peace and understanding that the more we share ideas and culture, the richer our lives.

On the day that I heard that the latest “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie sequel had been hacked, hit with malware and held for ransom, I ran across this historical tidbit. Filibuster was the word used for West Indie pirates (Buccaneers) during the 1600’s. It means free booty. It’s a Dutch word… vrijbuiter. Vrij means free and buit means booty. The Spanish adapted it and call it filibustero. In American politics it refers to when one of the primary political parties (Democratic or Republican) gets together and tries to stop legislation by talking for hours.

Suellen Ocean is the author of The Steinberg Conspiracy Series. Available here:

If the leader of your country acts more like a plantation master, you may very well be living under a despot. Despot comes from the Greek word despotes and it means “master of the house.” It is usually meant to define a man (or it could be a woman) who rules harshly and whose governing is based on tyranny. A good democracy should be run by the will of the people. Not subject to the will of an oppressive leader, who imposes his or her desire for power, disadvantaging the multitudes who contribute to the nation’s collective wealth.

How important is it, to know the right people? Or better yet, to be related to the right people? In Ivanka Trump’s case, when it comes to being recognized as “Jewish” in Israel, it can cut right through the red tape.

For decades, I’ve understood how painful it is for those seeking acceptance by the Israeli orthodox rabbinate. An American friend of mine, tells his story of attending boarding school in Israel. “Everyone was so welcoming,” he said. His father was Jewish and born in Israel. But when it came time for his bar mitzvah, he was told no, that he could not have it in the synagogue that his grandfather helped build, because his American mother wasn’t Jewish. He was offered the opportunity to live and study with an orthodox family for a year, to meet the conversion requirements. My friend declined. It was during the 1960’s and he was more interested in listening to the Beatles and the cultural revolution that was unfolding, than to put in the time and work required to be a “real” Jew. His grandmother was furious with the rabbi. My friend felt excluded by the people who had been so warm and welcoming. He was hurt. So was his younger brother, who fifty years later had a bar mitzvah in a reformed synagogue. After all these years, he was finally accepted. To a large crowd in the synagogue, he spoke of his rejection in Israel. “It was very, very painful.”

Now enter the drama unfolding around Ivanka Trump. She fell in love with Jared Kushner, from a New York orthodox Jewish family. She went through the rigorous steps required to convert. Probably a year attending classes. Memorizing and learning Hebrew law, prayers, etc. She must have loved Jared very much and welcomed the orthodox lifestyle. From what I’ve read, they take joy in celebrating Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, which begins on Friday evening and ends on Saturday evening. The custom of taking twenty-four hours every week, to refrain from work or business, is rejuvenating. The ancients knew this, that’s how it began. Clear the head. Rest the body. It’s good for you.

But now, the New York rabbi who converted Ivanka, is in the spotlight because he is a bit too liberal for the orthodox rabbinate in Jerusalem, and they have declined to accept some of his former conversions. But because Ivanka is the president’s daughter, they are changing their tune. Bringing to mind, the old saying, “it is not what you know but who you know, that matters.” And even more importantly, who your father is. But beware, there is another old saying, “never argue religion or politics.” This situation involves both.

“The Knights of Malta are a ceremonial Roman Catholic order. This is where I get suspicious since Trump is not Catholic. They are mostly rich old men. Where it does get interesting is that they have observer status at the UN.”

That was the last that I heard about the rather cryptic group. Until today. The Daily Beast has a rather detailed story about the Pope and his defense of the Knights of Malta, who (against Catholic doctrine) were distributing condoms to sex workers in Myanmar, in an effort to stop the spread of AIDS. An interesting story. You can find it here:

Having heard the rumor that Donald Trump was a member of the Knights of Malta, I was surprised to learn that these Catholic knights are celibate monks. Whoa. Back off a little. Celibate monks? The rumor (emphasis on rumor) that Donald Trump is a member, could only be true if the knights have a service group that allows married men. But an organization of celibate monks? I can assure you, Donald Trump is not in their inner circle. But then again… these are strange times.

I grew up during the Vietnam War. My mother wrung her hands as she watched the news. I knew horrible things were going on but I never worried about it. It was an adult problem. I trusted the adults to figure it out. And they did, eventually. That war was an atrocity that ruined millions of lives. Young American men were forced to go to war and then disrespected when they got home. How does a generation heal from that? Not easily. Perhaps never.

Every day, I wait for that naive, childish faith to kick in. Sometimes, I can feel it close, but I can’t grab it. I look for hope by reading dozens of political articles. Whether written in anger or not, all of them are informative. But no matter how many I read, I just can’t seem to let go and trust. But I believe that I should. The only thing that gives me hope, is something that Winston Churchill said during WWII.

“You can always count on the Americans to do the right thing after they have tried everything else.”

The power lays within every American. How we think and feel as Americans, pushes this country. Because most of us are vocal, compassionate, fair and respect our laws. If you doubt that, take a drive and watch how every single driver stops at the stoplight. Let’s hope that the politicians that we voted for are true Americans. And like Churchill said, we can count on them to “do the right thing.” Because I, for one, would like to relax a little and regain some of that child-like trust. And don’t forget… our taxes that we worked hard for, are paying for them to do the right thing. For us. The American people.

Suellen Ocean is the author of many books on diverse topics. Her books are available here:

I’ve always watched the evening news, listened to San Francisco talk radio, listened to NPR, watched NPR, listened to strange radio talk shows while I fall asleep at night, so, well, I guess I am not media challenged. But I got worse during the election and even worse afterwards. I am downright obsessed. What is my sub-conscious seeking? I’ve heard of people’s obsessions with twitter and the like, but now I’ve fallen. Hard. I delight in goggling one thing after another, pertaining to anybody connected to the elections, the recount and the scandals coming from Washington D.C. and Manhattan, two places that are really low on my vacation list. It must send dopamine and/or serotonin into my blood stream. When I hit on something juicy, I get this rush. I take a deep breath, put the phone down, drawing satisfaction, knowing that after I get some work done, I can curl up with my phone and relish something new. It’s crazy and out of control. I am just another helpless American watching this all unfold. (And refold and crumple and get smashed on.) But there is good news. My understanding of how the media works has grown. (Columnists copy the other guy so often, it’s like they use a clone stamp.) Eventually, things will settle down. They will have to, because sooner or later, we all gotta get back to work.

Suellen Ocean is the author of many books on diverse topics. Her books are available here: